


The High King's Consort

by Remy_Etienne_Creed



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, F/F, F/M, Fillory, Forced Marriage, Forced Relationship, Forced Sex, Heirs, Homosexual forced into heterosexual sex, Homosexuality, It's not really noncon?, Kings & Queens, Lineage & Legacies, Literal awkwardest sex EVER, Loopholes, Loss of Virginity, Loveless Marriage, M/M, Mpreg, One-Sided Relationship, Possible Forced Pregnancy, Quentin still loves Alice, Royalty, Scheming, Threesome - F/M/M, he agrees to it but it's definitely dubcon, ignores season 2, no offense to Eliot's wife he's just gay, takes place after the end of season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9453485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remy_Etienne_Creed/pseuds/Remy_Etienne_Creed
Summary: In order to obtain the Leo blade, Eliot, the High King of Fillory, has to promise the blacksmith a place in his court through marriage. His marriage. Only problem is...he's gay and his wife is a woman. More specifically, a woman who he met the day he married her. While everyone desperately looks for a way out of it for him Margo begins to suspect what might be wrong with Quentin. Ever clever, Margo plans to use this admittedly shocking turn of events for her and Eliot's advantage. Why should Eliot be expected to produce an heir to Filory when there already might be one? Quentin is roped into a game of royal politics faster than he can believe.  How is he supposed to work on getting Alice back and gaining her forgiveness when Margo and Eliot's plans rely on him so heavily? Those two don't let plans fall through. Can Quentin let his friends down by not going along with them? And of course, there's the reminder of the desire between the three of them growing inside Quentin in the form of the High Crown Prince or Princess of Fillory.





	1. His Majesty, The Most Excellent, High King Eliot The True, The Rightful Ruler of The Kingdom Of Fillory, Its Islands and All Its Outlying Territoris

**Author's Note:**

> I am not Lev Grossman nor am I the Syfy channel. I don't own this just a beautiful alternate plot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin Chatwin has been defeated leaving Fillory in rightful, if unfamiliar hands. Fillory's war was finally over leaving it quite a bit worse for wear. Fillory and it's people are in desperate need of guidance and now that peace has been restored it is time for its new royalty to take their thrones and learn how to lead. Though they may be young Fillory expects a great deal from them. Left with the task of rebuilding a once great Kingdom to its former glory, the Fillorian Royals and their advisors find that being a King or a Queen is not as easy nor as fun as they might have imagined it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So everyone has different beliefs about homosexuality. I myself am a bisexual of unimportant gender who believes that just because someone is homosexual doesn't mean they won't find someone of the opposite gender attractive occasionally and even have sex with them but that is not usually the case and they vastly prefer their own gender. That being said feel free to skip the lengthy sex scene in this chapter if you don't think you can handle it. It will very likely make you a bit uncomfortable; it is supposed to as Eliot is a lot uncomfortable. But I find it kinda hot at one point so it'd be a real shame for you to miss it. But do what you think is best. UnBetad so please don't be harsh over grammar or spelling mistakes. Most importantly though, enjoy! never seen season 2 so that's why this is only season 1. No spoilers please!

It came as a surprise to no one, least of all Eliot himself, that he was the High King Of Fillory. He'd hoped it would be Quentin, anyone could see Coldwater was practically praying for it. But if it wasn't going to be Quentin then of course it would be Eliot. He'd always been a royal deep down. He and Margo both. Honestly the real surprise was that it hadn't come out before now. It had been splendidly dramatic. The timing could not have been more perfect if Eliot had selected it himself. Right before the fight of all of their lives, the greatest fight Fillory had likely ever seen, bam, suddenly King Eliot Waugh was crowned. It was just Eliot's style, chaotic and elegant all at once. And most importantly, even more spontaneous than he could have dreamed. It was fate, of that Eliot was sure. He could have broken down crying over how good that felt after being practically abandoned by it, leaving him aimless and directionless. But a King, that was direction damn it. Still, it would have been nice to see Quentin go all super dweeb with happiness. 

If Eliot hadn't meant it then he certainly meant it when faced with his...wife, Fen. There was nothing particularly wrong with her. Objectively she was a lovely young woman, quite beautiful indeed. However not all the beauty in the world could have made up for her major shortcoming. She was a woman and Eliot was just not attracted to women at all. If it wasn't going to happen with Margo, it wasn't going to happen at all for him. Fen, lovely as she was, was no Margo and his desire for her was akin to the sexual attraction one might feel towards a carrot. But what could he do? The price for the Leo Blade had been set before he was even born. Was it fair, no, but that was the way it was. Sure, it was a bit disheartening to realize his entire purpose up until that point was to be the currency with which his friends bought a fucking knife made of...moonrock or some other ridiculous thing. But...if someone had to give up their freedom of choice, it might as well be him, someone who always made the wrong ones. He'd given up on having a purpose on Earth so it didn't particularly break his heart when he learned he could never go back to it. Maybe Fillory would have some use for him. So he agreed. Not out of love for his friends like Quentin and Alice must have assumed, looking up at him with their big trusting eyes. It wasn't a result of sheer apathy like Margo probably tried not to think it was either. Eliot had felt a sense of duty and, God, had he missed that. So Eliot had married the Blacksmith's daughter. He learned her name just before saying "I do".

What he hadn't expected was the surprise impending fatherhood clause that came with his crown. Eliot understood, sure, but it still tripped him up even more than the ring on his finger. Of course the Fillorian people would expect that from him. They had been waiting for...well...he wasn't even sure how long they had been waiting for his rule. He was here now and they needed proof he was here to stay. Lineages had to be established. And after all the years they had spent under Martin Chatwin's tyranny it made absolute sense they'd want heirs as soon as possible, a rightful pair of hands ready and waiting to catch Fillory if disaster struck again. Eliot completely understood their logic and certainly agreed they should have an heir. He would have willingly given it to them too. But sympathizing still didn't make it any easier for Eliot to swallow that it was his child they wanted. That he was going to have to...give it to Fen. That he would be expected to raise, teach and most impossibly, love a tiny human being he had helped to create. They wanted a miniature version of him running around so badly it wasn't even his choice. He would HAVE to give them that baby. 

It wasn't as if Eliot were against kids or anything. He found them pretty delightful to be honest. He just never expected he would have any. Not in his entire life had he ever pictured being a father. Even as a kid growing up in Indiana, where starting a family as soon as one graduated high school was nearly as expected of a duty of his as it was here, did he even entertain the notion. Eliot simply couldn't ever imagine it. He'd always known, deep down, what he was. Eliot knew there would never be any women so of course there would never be any children either. As he got older Eliot had thought of adoption but had given up on that long before he had given up on love. Even if he found the right man, Eliot doubted he'd ever be able to love a kid enough unless biology compelled him to. Maybe in the distant future he would have given it another thought. Maybe with Margo, he knew he was capable of it. She was the only woman he'd never had trouble performing with. He wouldn't want to but he could if he needed to. They'd be good at it so long as they were together. Eliot and Margo went into every adventure at each other's side, it only made sense they'd be together in one as demanding as that. It was a nice picture, so nice that Eliot even mourned that the future where he would consider that would never come. A little girl that Eliot and Margo could dress up and teach about music and art, the embodiment of their friendship. She would have been beautiful. She would have been everything that Eliot and Margo were combined, she was destined for it. How could she have been anything less than perfect? So, how could Eliot not have come to adore her? That was the only possible circumstance under which he could even see himself with a child. Not 24 years old, hours after marriage to someone he had no interest in, heart still broken, mind still fogged over by depression, eyes still dark and jaded. He wasn't taking care of himself, how was he meant to take care of a vulnerable, helpless miniature? Loving it seemed like a far off concept, too foreign even to be a possibility. Eliot couldn't even love himself. No, he knew, this husband and father thing wasn't him but here it was, as destined and unwanted as it was that he would have to kill Mike.

He'd tried to bargain his way out of it, of course. He'd marry her,the whole damn kingdom, all his friends and he himself would have died if he hadn't but why did he have to fuck her? He suggested one of the others do it, Penny had been a more than willing volunteer. If it was his wife's baby and he was the King wouldn't the kid be the heir whether it was his or not? It had made a desperate sort of sense to him. The Fillorian sages and his-shudder- father-in-law did not agree. Apparently it had to be one of his sperm that the heir came from. So, while his friends went to go fight the Beast, he stayed behind with Fen and tried to make a baby.

It was hard not to think of this as some sort of karmic punishment as he was lead to a room with her and the door was heavily shut behind them. What a terrible thing to think about his wife. Well, this marriage was going to go well, he thought sarcastically. He looked around the room it seemed like he and the misses would be residing in for an indeterminate period. Eliot had a feeling they'd be expected to fuck at least until the others got back. He couldn't really blame them for this. Most newlyweds would be jumping for joy at the idea of an endless marathon of sex. And they'd done the place up right too. The room contained one piece of furniture, the biggest bed Eliot had ever seen. The thing was a nest of pillows and gossamer curtains. Well. Alright then. 

Eliot took his wife's-would he ever be used to that?- hand and sat down with her on the bed. He wanted to get to know her better. Bad enough he was having to fuck a girl but a complete stranger? He probably wouldn't even be able to get it up. If he could just connect with her on something, anything, then maybe...he looked to her, hoping she would be the one to speak first. He instantly wished he hadn't. She was terrified, dark eyes wide, pupils so blown they were nearly black. Eliot knew right then and there that he couldn't do this, not to her. She was legitimately terrified by him. How could she not be? She was a literal virgin farmgirl. She'd probably never seen a penis before in her life. Eliot wondered, heart breaking for her, if he was the first man Fen had ever met outside of her family. There was no way this was going to happen. He couldn't touch her. 

Eliot took her hand again with a sigh, "Look, Fen, I know what your father said but...I'm your husband now and I think my word trumps his, we don't have to do this. Not if you don't want to. You have my word I won't lay a hand on you."

She seemed horrified by just the sound of his voice as she looked up, meeting his gaze for the first time since she'd said "I do.". "N-no that's not it at all, Your Majesty! I do find you incredibly handsome but...I have...I have never lain with a man before. I have heard..that it hurts." She stammered. 

Fuck. Eliot couldn't help covering his face with his hands. How was he supposed to do this? He couldn't stand it. He was taking this girl's virginity and he didn't love her, he wasn't even attracted to her. Maybe if she were a man he would be a little turned on by taking it but as it was it made Eliot feel a little sick. He was pretty sure this was the opposite of an erection. "Please, please don't call me that. I won't be able to take it.", he really wouldn't have, he was already fighting off nausea as it was, hearing her call him that during sex would have him throwing up in a corner on all fours. "Just Eliot is fine. We're married, right? You should use my name." 

She nodded vehemently.

"Fen, you're a lovely girl but I just don't think we should..." He was caught off as she yanked him over to her by the shirt and pressed her lips against his in a clumsy kiss that hurt quite a bit more than it was probably supposed to. Her lips were soft but he wanted to pull away. She wouldn't let him and she threaded her fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it pleasurable for him, at least that's why Eliot thought she was doing it. The truth was she probably didn't know. 

Eliot was actually startled when she crawled into his lap, pushing him down onto the bed. Her movements frantic enough to convince him she wanted this , Eliot tried to enjoy it as he kissed her again. She smelled nice, her hair was long and smooth, she was beautiful but he wanted to push her away. He was disgusted and he wasn't sure if it was by her or himself.

Himself. Definitely himself. It wasn't Fen's fault her father had sold her off for a seat in court. How old was she? No, Eliot didn't think he could stand to know how young the...mother of his child would be. She was in the same boat as he and that's all he needed to know. Fen wouldn't be able to end this even if she wanted to and Eliot still couldn't figure out where she stood on that. But what was the point? They were married now, even if she hated this, there was no taking it back. No divorce in Fillory. He and Fen would be together until death do us part. What was left for them but to do their duty as the King and Queen(Consort?)? And right now their only duty was to fuck like rabbits. So. Might as well get this done.

Eliot stood up abruptly, pushing Fen gently off him. She seemed confused until he began yanking his clothes off. He hoped she would interpret his hurry for eagerness. It would suck to know your first time was with someone who didn't even want you. Eliot supposed she had to know deep down but he suppressed that thought. He would at least try to make this good for her if nothing else. It was the least he could do. She was a sweet girl, he owed her that much. She was the real one suffering here, stuck with Eliot as a husband.

If Eliot had any doubt his bride was a virgin-which he hadn't the girl's face practically screamed it- it would be gone now. She stared at his penis, clearly never having seen one before. As much as Eliot's heart broke for her, he supposed there was an upside, at least she had no idea he was supposed to be hard.

Eliot looked at her expectantly and she just stared back blankly. She had no idea what to do. He sighed. So he would be doing everything, well, at least he wouldn't have to act like it felt good when she touched him. He took her hand and gently pulled her up so she stood in front of him. "Fen, I'm going to take your clothes off now...unless...you would prefer to leave them on. All you really have to take off are your underwear. It's up to you, whatever would make you most comfortable is what we'll do." That would certainly make things easier for him. 

She looked him over, clearly pleased by what she saw as a flush went to her cheeks. So she really did find him handsome, then. "No...I want to bare myself in front of you as you have done for me...Eliot." She took his hand. He felt nothing as she said his name but at least it was better than "Your Majesty", anything was better than that. She turned around, "Can you undo the buttons, Eliot? They're quite tricky." 

Oh honey, if you only knew how much bigger of a wardrobe I have than you, Eliot thought with a sneer he hoped hadn't shown on his face. "I'll manage." He slowly undid each of the delicate little buttons. If nothing else he was going to adore the clothes here. This wedding dress was far too plain but he supposed she hadn't had much to work with or time to do it in. She had to have made it herself and that alone was enough for him to feel at least a comraderie with her. She was an artist. He wondered how she'd gotten such beautiful buttons, they were pearlescent and practically glowed. Well, if she was to be his wife she would have to have a better wardrobe for starters. She really was pretty but she needed some excitement to bring it out. 

All too quickly the dress was gone and she stood before him, in a see through slip and a pair of what looked like bloomers. The sole kinship between them, gone and he was reminded again, this was a woman. A woman he barely knew who was tied to him forever. He better get used to this now though he planned to see it as little as possible. She was shivering now and he wasn't sure if from cold or fright. He didn't want to know. Eliot felt like enough of a monster already. "Fen?", he said softly, asking if she wanted him to go on or wanted to take the rest off herself. She nodded in return.

He slowly removed her slip and bloomers and then they were naked before each other, husband and wife. This should feel natural but unsurprisingly, it did not. This was like the Secrets test but without Margo. Margo...the most logical thing was to pretend Fen was Margo. It shouldn't be too hard to pretend a woman was another woman. He lay her down on the bed gently. He couldn't claim to know much of anything at all about a woman's body. Eliot would have no way of knowing whether this would hurt her or not. Margo had certainly not been a virgin when he first did this with her. She'd probably been more experienced than he was. But Fen, well, he had no idea what to do with her. Missionary? That's how most girls lost their virginity, right? He was just going to just go with Missionary. Hopefully she'd tell him if he did anything that outright hurt.

He knew he was being unfair but he hated her for not being Margo. This was supposed to be her! He'd decided almost the moment he met her that Margo was the only woman he could spend his life with. It was her or no woman. Logically,he knew it wasn't Fen's fault but she WAS the one seperating them. Eliot felt, again, like a monster when she looked up at him trustingly with those big brown eyes. Brown, like Margo's but worlds different all the same. No, there was no way to pretend this was Margo.

Fen's skin was porcelain pale and on a man Eliot would have been completely undone by such a pristine,unblemished canvas, ego quite stroked by the honor of being the first artist to impress upon it. But this was not a man and as it was it was dizzying. This wasn't the golden tan of Margo. When he had stroked that skin he'd thought of how she'd gotten that color. He would smile, remembering Ibiza. They'd sat by the ocean for hours magicing up drink after drink for themselves. Margaritas. Normally they'd never drink something so boring and conventional but they'd found ways to keep it interesting. Besides, they were on vacation, why think any harder than they needed to about anything at all? She'd been the one to say that of course, not him. He had to admit though, Margaritas were perfect for the beach. Eliot had put sunscreen on her beautiful shoulders- girl had killer shoulder blades. She'd returned the favor endlessly but he just burned. There had not been much sun for him to soak up in Indiana. But this skin...Fen's skin he had no experience with. He didn't want to touch it.

"Do I...please you, Eliot?" She stuttered. Obviously, he was supposed to be touching her by now, even the virgin had realized something was wrong. 

He just nodded and sucked it up. He placed a hand on her full breast and was taken aback by how loudly she gasped. God, she was so starved for touch. She was young, in the heat of her sexual life and yet she'd never even seen a penis before his. Eliot was glad for how easy it would be to please her; Fen deserved something at least but impregnating her...he could see that would not be so simple. How was he going to get off?! He held and stroked her breasts, they were full and soft and warm. There was even a natural, subtly sweet scent to them but he still felt nothing. He had prayed to feel something, anything from it but he just couldn't. How was he supposed to...create what he needed to create to put a baby in her like this?

He had gotten off with a woman before- Margo,of course- so he knew he theoritically could. But again, it was quite apparent Fen was no Margo. Eliot could actually have sex WITH Margo and not TO Margo. Of course, Fen couldn't help it. She was a virgin, how would she know what to do? But it had always helped that Margo had been right there with him, in it as much as Eliot. It had always been good between them. It was never really erotic and strangely unsexual when he fucked Margo but it was nice, warm and comforting. They'd never viewed sex as this illicit thing, something that would change the nature of their relationship. Nothing with he and Margo was taboo just as nothing between them was off limits. They didn't do it often but whenever they did they genuinely thought it only strengthened their friendship. But there was no friendship between he and Fen yet. Nothing to strengthen this was just...nothing. And it really, really sucked. He couldn't joke with her; he couldn't laugh with her; he couldn't bury his face in her warm neck or breasts and gain any comfort from being there. This was awkward and forced and Eliot knew he could not do this. He was not capable of sex with Fen. 

He hadn't wanted to do this; it seemed too mean. Even worse than imagining her as Margo, this would be a direct acknowledgement that she had forcibly been married to a gay man. Eliot was going to have to think of a man. It made him feel awful but it was that or nothing was going to happen. And while the others were off risking their lives he had been given one job to do so goddamit, Eliot was going to do it. He closed his eyes, ran a hand through her hair and saw Quentin Coldwater. 

Yes, underneath him was Quentin Coldwater. Quentin had been a virgin too. It was that time again and Margo watched from further down on the bed and stroked herself. Eliot sank into the memory far too easily. Quentin's skin was pale just like this. His eyes were brown too. Eliot thought of Quentin's lips as he kissed Fen's and managed to put some passion into it this time. Kisses along her skin were suddenly kisses along Quentin's. That neck of his that had been so long looked like Fen's so he sucked and nipped at it fevershly. She mewled, writhing in pleasure not that he could have noticed. He did notice that he was hard now. Eliot let himself dream of Coldwater so he could keep going; it was the only way. 

He pictured Quentin's hair, eyes, voice and smile. God, Eliot was burning now. Eliot had known as soon as he saw Quentin that there was a magnificent ass hidden under those worn and mousy jeans. But...Jesus, he hadn't imagined how glorious it really was. He could have had no real idea until he saw it bare in front of him. He'd slapped the hell out of it, he'd had to. It was so pale, so perky, so round; it was an ass demanding to be slapped. So bubbly, Eliot's very own art peice. He'd been in love with it immediately. One of his favorite moments had been when he'd leaned over and bitten it. Despite the chaos of the next morning he couldn't help but wear a satisfied grin when he found that the mark was still there, Eliot's mark. He got more than enough pleasure from imagining that it still was to keep on.

Eliot had known he was attracted to Quentin from the moment they met but hadn't known until he saw him naked that Quentin was his ideal. Quentin was not muscled but he was gorgeous. Eliot didn't want muscled anymore anyway. Mike had been muscled. But Quentin, he was so skinny and lanky and perfect. Eliot had kissed every last inch of that porcelain chest, sparsely haired, exactly the way he liked it, pure elegance. Quentin had been shockingly smooth, smoother even than Fen but, God, was this working. Eliot hadn't realized how badly he wanted to fuck Quentin -for forever, preferably - again until just now. The way he had felt around Eliot's cock, the way Quentin had rode him and cried out, his nails digging into Eliot's shoulders. Fuck, it had been so good! 

He hadn't realized it but all of a sudden he was thrusting inside Fen and by the way she was moaning and writhing under him, Eliot was doing a pretty good job of it. Hell, even he let out a gasp every once in awhile. So Eliot just kept thinking of men, usually Quentin but once or twice he let himself think of Penny. He was a handsome guy even though Eliot would have married Fen gladly over that asshole. Eliot was far too intelligent to fall for any bad boy bullshit. But to fuck, Penny would probably do nicely if Eliot could tape that mouth of his shut. He concentrated on his little fantasies and fucked Fen.

It was at least three days before the others got back though Eliot had completely lost track of time so there was really no telling. He was proud of himself, he'd successfully done it a couple of times for certain. Eliot thought he never wanted to have sex again even if it was with a man. He had to reek of sex by now but if he did, everyone was gracious enough not to mention it. Nor did they make any comment on how wrinkled his clothes was and that his hair would probably have to be washed before all the tangles would come out of it. He didn't even want to know what it looked like. And thankfully,even Penny simply looked away. Eliot could have kissed him but he was fairly sure his lips were broken. 

Only Margo spoke to him about it. She was the only one who could have. "So?", she asked hesitantly.

Eliot raised an eyebrow but he knew what she meant...he just didn't have it in him to say it right now. He didn't know if he ever would. "So, what?"

Margo understood, blessed Margo, she always did. She'd say it for him. "So...is she pregnant?", she asked more softly. Eliot could tell that she could barely say it herself. Who could? 

Eliot watched as Fen was led away to be cleaned up and taken care of by a Babette, a five foot tall talking rabbit. That still made a lot more sense to Eliot than what he was about to tell Margo did. Yet he knew how successful he had been. Eliot wished now that he'd never imagined Quentin and his quivering thighs. It had done the job too well. He'd given Fen a lot to work with. It was hard to imagine they hadn't done it. "Probably." , Eliot looked away from Fen as he spoke. He wasn't sure he'd able to look at her ever again.

Eliot looked away from everything, in fact, utterly shattered by it. He wished to be surrounded by nothing more now than he ever remembered having done before. Was Fillory really going to be any better for him than Earth? Maybe nowhere was where Eliot belonged but he couldn't even do that now. Any chance that he had of killing himself was gone the second he accepted the crown. Eliot wasn't a person anymore; he was a kingdom now and any freedom of choice he might of had was gone. It left him desolate again. 

Margo, because she really was the perfect woman for him, said nothing. Bless her for that. She was worlds smarter than anyone but Eliot would ever be able to understand. She knew there was nothing she could say to make any of this better so she kept her mouth shut. Nothing would ever make this better at all. There was no use in saying how terrible it had been, Eliot was far too aware of that without her rubbing it in. And of course she had enough sense not to say something as ridiculous as "congratulations" to him. No, this was not a joyous occasion and she knew it better than anyone except Eliot himself. So she hugged him. Eliot couldn't remember if he had cried or not but he knew that she wouldn't say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY there is some Magicians Mpreg on this site. You're welcome.


	2. Queen Margo the Destroyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's be honest, Eliot's love life is a giant garbage fire. Doesn't mean he can't turn it around. Margo's got a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, really slowing down on this one. It's definitely continuing though! Sorry this one isn't longer but at this point I just wanted to post this chapter.

"Fine Bambi.", he decided to humor her. "Suppose I did manage to...", divorce didn't seem like the right word, he didn't even really feel married. " -end things with Fen. What then? I still can't leave Fillory."

There was that. Margo briefly wondered if she could leave, not that she had any real desire to. It would just be nice to know she had the option. "You be with someone here then. Or several someones.", she replied. Eliot raised an eyebrow at her. She was sex, he was romance. A string of lovers wasn't his style. He'd have hook ups, yes, but he never saw them more than once. It always came back to one lover. She sighed, "I'm just saying L, you haven't had the best luck with romances maybe just play around a bit for awhile.". She really shouldn't have said that. Eliot looked like she'd struck him. Just the look in his eyes had her ashamed of herself. It was true and they both knew it but she still shouldn't have said it to him. 

He looked away. "Well, at least I keep trying.", he spat back.

She probably deserved that. They'd been too busy to even think about Mike since they'd come here. Things had almost gone back to normal between them. But she'd gone and thrown the rift back into play. She felt further away from him than she had been in awhile and it hurt. But he couldn't run from her as easily here. She had gotten used to having their old closeness and she wasn't about to lose him again. "We're talking about Mike.", she said, an order.

He laughed bitterly and picked his book back up. "No, we're really not." Seeing the look on the High King's face all the servants scampered out of the room, the knights aching to go with them. Alice primly shut her spell book and left. Only Quentin remained in the corner to lost in his book to notice the shift in the atmosphere. 

"We have to Eliot! I'm sick of this. It's like we don't even know each other anymore and I miss you, L! Everything sucks without you. Don't shut me out anymore! I know how badly it hurt you but I've been hurt too! Why didn't you think you could talk to me about this? I'd understand. Please, Eliot, just talk to me! -

He laughed and it was mean spirited. She flinched just a little. "You think you know anything? Ha! I snapped his neck, Margo!", by the last sentence he was yelling. And suddenly they had even Quentin's attention, eyes wide as he made a valiant effort to keep reading. The guards looked like they wanted to run. Eliot's words seemed to fill up the whole room, the whole damn palace. Realizing this he said more softly, "I snapped his fucking neck.". His eyes fell to the table. He looked like he was about to cry and she reached across the table to take his face in her hands before she could. 

"And saved all our lives, El. Guess what bitch? That's like page one of being a king, being a stone cold badass.", she said seriously. 

He laughed bitterly but didn't pull away from her. Margo surpressed a smile. She had him now. "Oh how noble of me.", he scoffed, "Why do I spend about every other second then wishing I hadn't done it?! Why the hell do I miss him when he was a lie?"

Margo sighed. Oh Eliot. He was such a hopeless romantic. He always had to be chasing after some boy or he just wasn't himself. So then, the question was who was the boy? An awkward cough from the other side of the room was an answer to her prayers. She could have slapped herself. It was so simple! "So you go after a new boy. And this time, I'm on board. I'm going to help you get him.", she chirped.

"And who do you have in mind?", he snorted, 

She decided she might just slap him instead. She settled on turning his face towards Quentin, "I'm willing to step back here so long as you let me help." 


End file.
